soft centre
by jo taylor
Summary: It's Christmas, and one Ranger lets his softer side be shown. A brief Christmas vignette


Soft centre  
  
By Jo Taylor  
  
  
  
  
  
"You, you are not going out dressed in, in that, are you?" the soft voice stuttered.  
  
The Minbari's shocked countenance was all that Marcus had wished for. He grinned delightedly, knowing that if he could shock his ultra polite friend into commenting, then the costume was just what he had intended.  
  
Christmas wasn't a time of year that he normally celebrated - too many bad times in recent years. But he did have fond memories of early years, when he and William had slept little, woken early, and joined their parents in bed to open gifts well before the dawn had broken. Happier days, he sighed.  
  
But this year was something special, something that he had wanted to do from the first day he had stepped into Brown sector.  
  
The first Christmas he had spent on the station he had wandered through the shantytowns, seen the tired faces of parents who wanted to do something special for the children who curled at their sides. He had heard them telling stories of Santa Claus, of Rudolph and his brothers, of how, if children had been good all year, then he would bring them a present. It had almost broken his heart knowing that, for these waifs at least, there would be no visit, no gift to delight in, no special way to mark that day from any other.  
  
He tugged down the bottom of his bright red jacket and surveyed his face in the mirror once more. His unruly hair had been tucked up under his vivid hat and a white wig and false beard and moustache covered his face, leaving just his brilliant green eyes and rouged cheeks visible. He chuckled to himself, feeling the heavy weight of the padding around his waist jiggle sympathetically. He grinned again, mischief lighting his face.  
  
Lennier frowned and shook his head. "I do not understand the significance of the robes you are wearing, nor the ritual that you are going to perform."  
  
Marcus tugged at the beard, settling it a little more comfortably.  
  
"You want me to explain Christmas to you? Now?"  
  
Marcus thought about the task his friend had set him, sighed and let his bulk sink into a chair. This was going to be interesting.  
  
"Christmas used to be a religious ceremony, still is for some. A time when the faithful celebrated the birth of Christ."  
  
Religious festivals Lennier could understand and he nodded sagely.  
  
"But that isn't what Christmas is about anymore, not really." Marcus paused, ruminating on the fact that to a Minbari of the religious caste, what he was about to tell was probably close to blasphemous!  
  
"There used to be a saying - 'goodwill to all men'. Didn't mean much until some bright spark got the idea that to show one's 'goodwill' then giving a gift was the order of the day." The cynical tone of his voice edged into the room.  
  
Lennier raised a hand slightly, "But offerings have always been acceptable, even in our own religion. Why should this offend you?"  
  
"It doesn't, not really. I just have never worshipped the great god Mammon, that's all."  
  
"Is he one of Earth's gods?"  
  
Marcus teetered between laughter and anger. His friend had no concept of the evil that could be done for money. His innate sense of humour won out.  
  
"No, but Santa Claus, now there was a man worth the trouble. This suit," his hand stroked down the heavy material, "is the traditional outfit worn by Father Christmas, aka Santa Claus."  
  
"I see. You dress in his likeness to pay homage to this God." Lennier's eyes had lightened, the frown lifting from his brow.  
  
"You could say that. Now Santa had his band of . acolytes, Elves."  
  
"Elves?"  
  
"Um," Marcus' mouth twitched with suppressed amusement, he had just thought of something rather wicked and was glad for the bushy beard and moustache that hid his glee. "They dressed in green, with pointy shoes, little caps and rosy cheeks. Cheerful little chaps, unless you met one in one of the hypermarkets of course. Though they were slave labour if you think about it."  
  
He lay back in the chair, watching Lennier's face from beneath the brim of his Santa cap. The Minbari was frowning once again, slavery was a concept they knew but did not condone.  
  
"These elves were slaves to the god Father Christmas? I did not think that slavery was allowed on Earth."  
  
"It's not, but they didn't get paid, unless he brought them back a mince pie or two. These chaps slave away for 364 days and nights making toys for children who have been good, then Santa Claus hitches up his reindeer and delivers them to every household across the globe."  
  
"Every household?" If Lennier had eyebrows they would have been meeting his bone by this time as he tried to work out just how one man and something called a reindeer could perform such a task.  
  
"Well he did have all the reindeer to pull his sleigh. And Rudolph's red nose to guide them."  
  
"Red. nose?"  
  
"Oh yes!"  
  
"But that is impossible."  
  
"You would think so. Anyway, the great god Mammon decided to help Santa Claus out by encouraging people to buy their own presents; save Santa having to visit every house."  
  
"That is a most wise decision. Even with the Elves help I can not see how even a god could do such a task."  
  
Marcus' eyes crinkled with humour; baiting Lennier was so damn easy.  
  
"But that is not why you are dressed in these garments, is it?"  
  
Oho, perhaps his friend was not so green after all.  
  
"No," he replied softly. "No it's not."  
  
He stood and moved to the mirror once more, addressing his own reflection rather than the Minbari's placid features. The fact that he had a softer side did him no credit as a Ranger; it was hard to admit to it, even to Lennier.  
  
"The children still believe in Santa Claus you see. For them he's not just an excuse to spend too much and eat too much. He is a time of magic, when they get something they want, when their family is together - a better time, even if it is for just one day."  
  
"You have happy memories of this festival?"  
  
For a moment he was a child again, full of laughter and excitement as he and William ripped the gaudy paper from their gifts. The room filling with crumpled wrapping and children's delighted shrieks.  
  
"Yes I do. And I wanted to do something for the kids down below. They have nothing, can expect nothing; not even the hope that Santa will visit. So," he hefted the solid padding around his waist, "I'm going to give them a Christmas they won't forget." And he rolled out a hefty Yo Ho Ho.  
  
"You will bring them gifts?"  
  
Marcus indicted the sack propped against the wall by the door. Lennier opened it to find a wealth of tiny glittering parcels each tied with tinsel.  
  
"It's not much, just some candy, or a little toy, but it's more than they would get," his voice gruff with suppressed emotion.  
  
Lennier straightened, turned to Marcus and, pressing his hands into the traditional gesture, bowed. "I would be honoured to help you in this most worthy ritual."  
  
Marcus stared at the Minbari for a long moment, then, eyes alight he said, "Only if you dress for the part."  
  
***  
  
"Do you know what I just saw?" Zack almost ran into the security chief's office.  
  
"What?" Garibaldi let his feet drop from the desk to the floor, expecting to find that someone on the most wanted list had turned up on the station at least.  
  
"Turn to camera 224, there, see that!"  
  
"Well I'll be."  
  
Although Santa's face was well hidden under his many layers, the Elf at his side was instantly recognisable. A bobble-ended green cap sat precariously on the distinctive Minbari crest which topped the tight fitting green tunic and hose. Under that sat Lennier's usually impassive face, now wreathed in smiles as he helped one child after another to accept the tiny packages Santa was finding in his sack.  
  
The two men looked at one another and burst out laughing.  
  
"Merry Christmas!"  
  
The end. 


End file.
